


Technophobia

by CherryJacks



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Blood and Injury, Body Horror, Corpses, Graphic Description of Corpses, Horror, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mad Science, Medical Experimentation, Mental Anguish, Murder, Near Death Experiences, Surgery, Survival Horror, What Was I Thinking?, botched surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4847930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryJacks/pseuds/CherryJacks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Could Team Flare still be at large?" The reporter asked rhetorically.</p><p>The Professor froze at the statement. Only moving while he fumbled around for his missing remote before finally getting up to raise the volume himself. Thoughts buzzed around in his skull while his insides rebelled against his choice of breakfast fare.</p><p>"No." He mouthed on his lips. His grey eyes reflected the glow of the television. The reporter raised their hand to an earpiece before continuing, "One of the escapees is confirmed to be ex-Team Flare scientist Xerosic Fleischer."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Distortion

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not kidding, I'm really writing a Perfectworldshipping Horror fic. I was going to wait on this for a bit, but I've sat on it long enough and thought I'd post the teaser. (This work will be done in three parts)
> 
> I'm simply curious what type of audience this will generate, not that anything will stop me from posting the full work. Kudos and comments are always appreciated. I hope that you enjoy this first installment.

* * *

 

It was early in the morning. Not early for the citizens that were already traveling the streets, wandering in and out of shops, and grabbing quick meals from street side vendors. Not everyone had the time to sit in one of the many cafes that dotted the bustling streets of Lumiose City.

The whole population was a buzz of energy. Men and women dressed in finely pressed suits haled taxis, others exited the same vehicles and wandered into towering office buildings. The man who watched the crowds of people move about didn't share the same energy as the morning rush. Which could have been seen as sad, he once held the most lively energy out of anyone.

Professor Sycamore sipped lazily at his chipped mug of lukewarm coffee. Too much cream killed the pleasant temperature it once had. He leaned against his window sill and continued to watch others dart about with purpose.

The Professor wasn't in a rush that day. Honestly his mood wasn't at its best. It would appear that he was better served staying away from the lab if he could help it. Which it just so happened that he could. Wandering back to his coffee table showed that he had a few messages on his holocaster that was left on the scuffed surface. They were from his assistants asking if he would be in the lab that day.

After abandoning his mug on the table he typed back a group message. He wasn't ashamed to admit to his staff that things were still difficult for him. They were all very understanding of the highs and lows of his drive and mood. After everything that happened, it was going to take time for his usual spark to return. The Professor often had his doubts if it ever would in his lowest moments.

He couldn't help it, sometimes he was so sure that Lysandre would come through the doors of his lab. That they would go up to his office and talk just like they always did, maybe take lunch together and discuss recent research topics. Of course he never would and the Professor would be forced to remember that things couldn't be like that anymore.

It still amazed him in an almost morbid sort of way how quickly everything spiraled out of control. It seemed like just the day before him and Lysandre shared a cheerful conversation. Then he was receiving the warning of impeding death just like the rest of Kalos. Augustine hardly recovered from his shock before he found out it was over. Lysandre had been stopped, but he was gone.

He found it surprisingly hard to stay mad at a man whose corpse was buried under tons of rock and rubble. Yet, he managed. His feelings about the situation never remained consistent though. They would range from fury to nearly unbearable grief. The likes of which wouldn't allow himself to even drag his body from his covers to greet the day. Augustine was currently somewhere closer to grief than anger, but still able to walk around his apartment.

The TV had been running the entire time. It wasn't until Augustine settled into his couch that he bothered to pay it any attention. It was a news broadcast by none other than Malva herself. The Professor had half a mind to change the channel. He couldn't say he actually hated the woman, but it rubbed him the wrong way to see her walking free. While surviving members got gathered up and arrested, she remained free. Sure she helped the Looker Agency track down Xerosic, but she should have been punished like the rest.

That was just one of the Professor's angrier thoughts, "Why should she be free when Lysandre paid the ultimate price?"

He knew such thoughts lacked complete logic, Lysandre was the leader after all. He made the decision to enact his crazy plan. Perhaps his punishment was just, certainly the masses felt so. That didn't mean Augustine felt the same. Where others only saw him as a monster, he saw him for what he was: a passionate man who just wanted to fix the world. It was unfortunate that in Lysandre's mind, a global cleanse was the only way.

The usual TV drone shifted like a flip of a switch, bringing the Professor out of his thoughts. Malva was no longer present giving the morning news report. The scene was now being filmed outside the Kalos Regional Correctional Facility. Bellowing smoke that was thick and inky, sickly like burning tires or plastic could be seen from behind the nervously shifting reporter. It appeared that they were about to give their first major news story. Right place at the right time as someone might say, but with the way the young man's face paled he wasn't sharing the sentiment.

Augustine wasn't focused on the way the reporter nervously fidgeted, trying to muster the courage to cover the story. His eyes were instead glued to the words running at the bottom of the screen.

_"Largest prison break in Kalosian history."_

The reporter finally spoke, shaky and young, but eventually getting it together to follow his prompts. It only served to confirm what Augustine could plainly see displayed on the flickering screen. He didn't even bother to make any attempts to fix the antenna. All he could do was watch in awe. No, it was shock as the smoke continued to pollute the otherwise clear sky.

"Could Team Flare still be at large?" The reporter asked rhetorically.

The Professor froze at the statement. Only moving while he fumbled around for his missing remote before finally getting up to raise the volume himself. Thoughts buzzed around in his skull while his insides rebelled against his choice of breakfast fare.

"No." He mouthed on his lips. His grey eyes reflected the glow of the television. The reporter raised their hand to an earpiece before continuing, "One of the escapees is confirmed to be ex-Team Flare scientist Xerosic Fleischer."

Augustine didn't need to hear it to know that it was true. The words already branded the bottom of his screen. They ran through again only to state the same awful fact: Team Flare's top scientist was no longer behind bars. 

The Professor slumped against his couch, his eyes still glued to the television. He hardly had the chance to sink into the cushions before he lurched back to his feet from the sound of swift knocking at his door.

He opened the door only a crack before he finally opened it fully when he saw the two concerned faces of Dexio and Sina.

 "Oui?" He said, not succeeding in the slightest in hiding the dread in his voice.

His assistants knew it too. They both had become all too familiar in the tiny ways that their boss tried to play off his emotions. Even when he tried to hide the fact that Lysandre's death bothered him immensely, he couldn't hide how fake his smile appeared. When they looked at the Professor, they could see the building stress, the subtle terror, the fear that nothing would be left to rest.

"Sir, are you ok?" Dexio asked. He already knew the answer. Augustine answered it plainly and clearly on the moment the door came open. It was asked more for the sake of being polite and when he didn't answer, Sina took the next role.

"If you need to talk we're here, but for now let's take a moment." She motioned inside and Augustine allowed his two assistants entry. It wasn't the first time, and it probably wouldn't be the last that they stepped in to offer him much needed stability. Especially in moments that solid ground could no longer hold him upright and instead, felt like sinking sludge in a swamp trying to suck him under.

Dexio clicked the TV off right as he passed it. Augustine wanted to protest, but knew that he would spend the rest of the day obsessing over it.

~*~

At first such treatment was almost embarrassing. Augustine was a grown man, but in his weak moments he found that his young assistants had a much firmer grasp on coping than he. They would both argue that he had no reason to feel ashamed. It was in one of his moments that assistance was needed that he explained the reasoning that Lysandre's passing was so difficult for him.

"I really thought that I loved him. That he loved me too. I guess I was filth as well..."

It felt good to say it aloud, but it didn't change the unbelievable amount of pain it brought him. Dexio was the first to speak, "I always knew you two were close." He paused and placed a careful hand on the Professor's slumped back, "I'm sorry for your loss." The end of his sentence hung awkwardly as though he wanted to add, _"he was a good man."_ Of all the people in the room Augustine was the only one who still wanted to cling to that, even if others thought him foolish for it.

Sina didn't have much to say on the topic so she just made her boss something hot to drink. Some mint tea to try to calm his twisting stomach. Then she joined him on his couch and offered her ear so he could vent. What could anyone else really say about the incident? Even claiming they were sorry for his loss was a hollow statement really. It was either going to be Lysandre or the world as they knew it. Augustine knew that it couldn't be both, even if some part of him wished there would have been a way for it to be. Perhaps there was, but he lost that chance a long time ago.

Funny, if he had risked the possibility of a confrontation and spoke to Lysandre about his plan, he may have saved his life.

~*~

Augustine couldn't complain that Dexio and Sina felt the need to stay at his side for the remainder of the work day. It helped keep him distracted so he didn't feel the need to switch the TV back on and listen to further news reports. Only adding to his diminishing mood.

Once they left however, there wasn't much that could be done to stop him. So again he found himself huddled on his couch. It didn't take long to find a channel that was covering the story. It appeared that nearly every channel was overshadowed by the news report.

_"What does this mean for Kalos?"_

_"Are we in danger? Is Xerosic Fleischer going to try to continue where Team Flare left off?"_

Questions, so many questions, but not an answer to be found. That wasn't all that surprising. He highly doubted there was anyone that could pinpoint the reasoning behind a man like Xerosic. The Professor didn't know him personally, but Lysandre mentioned him offhandedly once or twice. The way he put it, he was a brilliant inventor. Augustine flipped to another channel and was yet again met with the vision of Elite Four Malva giving a report. There was someone who could possibly try to explain his reason, but for the sake of her public image it was doubtful she would even try. Only very few even knew of her involvement in Team Flare, a fact that she kept the firmest lid on.

_"Possible arson in Lumiose City shortly before the massive prison break in the Kalos Regional Correctional Facility. Witnesses enjoying their meals and battles in the Sushi Highroller claim they saw a masked figure fleeing the nearby building after a fire engulfed the area in flames."_

Perhaps it was just the Professor's imagination, or lackluster signal, but he was certain that just for a moment the edge of her glossy lip nearly twitched up into a smile.  

_"There was no damage to the surrounding structures. Once firefighting crews arrived there wasn't anything salvageable from the building's interior. Our sources say that the building was being rented out, but the occupants remain missing. Later investigations show that there appeared to be signs of some sort of pokémon battle..."_

The Professor was at his wits end. Of course she couldn't just blurt out that the building was being used by the International Police, or that the mysterious "masked" figure was most likely the young girl known as Emma. Though he supposed she was Essentia if she was in the suit. That didn't change his irritation.

"Yeah you would just love for Interpol to be wiped out of Kalos wouldn't you!" Augustine was alone so yelling at his television proceeded without witness. That didn't change that it was a pointless thing to do. Malva would still continue to speak without hearing his rant, "All that information about your involvement now turned to ash! I bet you are just thrilled!"

Throwing his nearby shoe wasn't the most graceful thing that Augustine had ever done in his life, but he was actually pissed enough for it to feel like a viable choice of action. If his mind wasn't at a boil, he may have been impressed that his tossed shoe managed to turn the television off. Apparently, rage gave him incredible aim.

Augustine took it all as a sign that it was time for him to retire for the evening. So he washed himself up and tried his best not to let his mind wander to his more fear fueled sections. There wasn't a single possibility that Xerosic could try to use the weapon again, he told himself over and over in a droning loop. Unless he grabbed a shovel to dig, he wasn't going to salvage any portion of it without drawing attention.

Suddenly Augustine felt his stomach reel, he gripped it tightly while he slid onto the tiled floor of his bathroom by the porcelain toilet. His mind betrayed him. All he could think about was digging through the rock and dirt in Geosenge himself. His spade striking against the earth to pry it away. At some point he would abandon the shovel and dig with his bare hands. He would desperately claw and throw rocks until his fingertips had hardly any nail left, just raw bloody tips. Did Lysandre have hands that looked the same? Did he die instantly, or was he forced to try to dig himself free until the skin was rubbed clear from his fingers?

There wasn't much that made up the contents of the Professor's stomach, but now the toilet could keep it instead. He continued to heave until sweat dropped from his brow and his stomach muscles complained from being tugged so tight. It wasn't until he heard the telltale chime of his holocaster receiving a message that he realized that he missed a call.

After rinsing out his mouth and brushing his teeth yet again, he finally made his way back to his coffee table to check the message.  

"A holoclip?"

He lifted the device closer to his face to make sure he was reading it correctly.

"The number is restricted..."

The hair prickled on the back of his neck and he shifted about nervously in the empty space of his apartment. He was fairly certain that he was one of the few people in all of Kalos that still used a holocaster. He just couldn't bring himself to switch to a different product. It was just one of the strange ways he chose to honor his memory of Lysandre.  

That still left the question to hang, who sent him a holoclip? He retreated to his bedroom and hid himself away under a mass of quilts and sheets. It gave the appearance of a child trying to stay up much too late playing a game on a handheld device. The only light was dimly produced by the practically obsolete device. It illuminated his wild, panicked eyes, and gave him just enough of a glow to push the needed button to play the clip. His curiosity far outweighed any apprehension he may have been feeling in that moment.

The first thing that was immediately noticed was the choppy, grainy quality of the hologram. A screeching moan produced by some sort of interference berated his ears, causing him to drop the device onto the mattress and shield his ears from the whining squeal.

There was garbled static and a vaguely human-like voice that must have been trying to speak through the limited signal. Speak what, Augustine couldn't even try to piece together. He was far too focused on the shifting image. Was that an arm that convulsed through the fog? Wherever the clip was recorded, it was disturbingly dark with a horrendous signal. For just a moment the Professor thought he caught the edge of a face, but the interference distorted the image beyond repair and the broken sound screamed again. Or was that the voice?

The clip ended abruptly like a sudden cut and the Professor was left in silence.    

 ~*~

The next week left the Professor horribly distracted. He worked in the lab, assisted with scans, wrote notes on clipboards, observed battle footage from his students, but he wasn't fully aware. Not even the bright face of a new trainer could completely break him out of his curse. It was just another task quickly done with his autopilot. No one none the wiser that his mind was haunted by the screaming sounds and distorted imagery of the holoclip he kept saved on his device.

As soon as he could step away he would file into a private area and play the clip again. The more he played it, the more he was sure that the voice was indeed screaming. From what he could see of the body movements, they were tight and twitchy. It shuffled and staggered in a way that was far more disturbing than ever thought possible. Definitely not the body language associated for anyone within the realm of comfort. It struck him as movements associated with great pain, or perhaps he was digging too far into it?

He lost count how many times he played it. He obsessed over each frame, every warble produced in the image, trying to pick apart any clues that might be hiding to give him some insight to who he was looking at. The voice, oh the voice began to visit him even in his slumber. There was no escape from the pain and fear he believed the voice held. Someone else may say he was projecting. Someone else may say he was going mad. Someone else may say that he had finally lost his mind, that his obsession had finally reached a level that he could no longer function properly.

So what if he forgot to eat and stayed up at all hours of the night? He found he really didn't need that much sleep anyway. So what if he ignored calls from those who claimed to want to help him. They would only want him to seek some sort of guidance, counseling of sorts.

He played the clip again and again and again and again and again...

There was no one who could help him because Augustine Sycamore didn't need any help. He wasn't going insane and he certainly wasn't obsessing.

He played the clip again.

The total length of the holoclip was only ten seconds long. It was the last two seconds of the hologram that he kept his focus on. He would try to pause the image right as the slice of face became barely clear. He would strain his ears over the high pitched sounds to work out the words that were being said.

It became his usual ritual to allow the clip to play in a haunting loop. The loud static hardly affected him as he became numb from the multiple plays. When he felt the urge to try to make sense of it, he would pause the hologram, play it again, and reverse it only to pause it yet again. He would play it at a slower speed, just to try to freeze it at just the right spot that he may be able to make out the face. It was of no use, the image was far too corrupted to make anything tangible out.

He fell asleep on his couch with it running. The sounds mended together with wispy images that began to form into the beginning workings of dreams. They grew in intensity, the formless visions, along with the sounds of the clip. They would reach a peak and die off only to repeat the same rhythm. Stretching, jittery rays of light danced under the Professor's eyelids. They lurched and twisted at higher and higher intensity until the final groaning plea yelled out through the fog.

_"HELP ME!"_

Augustine sat up with force, sending his device off of his chest and onto his carpeted floor. It continued to loop without fail. The low distortion rising in strength until it finally struck its climax. There was the briefest shot of a face before the garbled scream filled the room.

_"HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME!"_

"Arceus!" Augustine gasped. How could he not hear it before. It was a cry for help, of course it was a cry for help. He jabbed his thumb at the display and froze the clip. It managed to finally pause on the first clear view of the face that the Professor had ever managed.

He brought the holocaster closer before it was dropped again, let loose from his hands as they clasped over his mouth, "Oh good Arceus why!" He sobbed through his fingers, "It's Lysandre!"

The hologram flickered one last time before his battery died from the constant use. Leaving him in the dark with nothing but the horrified expression that stretched over Lysandre's face imprinted on his mind and the looping voice crying for his help.


	2. Static

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic descriptions in this section. The tags are not lying.
> 
> On a lighter note: I like the idea of Augustine having Garchomp on his team. She is still one of my favorite additions from the anime.

No one argued or appeared even slightly surprised at the sign that was left to hang on the lab door. The shockingly less than neat, scribbled handwriting read as such, _"Gone on much needed Holiday, je suis vraiment désolé."_

The news only came as a slight annoyance as his staff had hardly been given warning. Very few were even given the courtesy of a call or text. It was easy to tell the level of confusion with how many of the employees passed nervous glances between themselves and whispered in hushed voices about the questionable state of their careers. The group continued to stand like a lost flock in the front lawn of the building until Sina approached and produced her own key from her pocket to unlock the door, "Come on everyone, we can at least keep the machines warm until he returns."

She stood aside and ushered the staff members through the door. Her hands wrung together behind her back, hidden from her fellow members. She didn't want it to show that she was having any hesitation in her ability to take charge in the Professor's absence. Sophie passed her an appreciative glance for taking initiative, which only served to make her more anxious than not. Once everyone was inside, only Dexio remained, "Is he going to return?" He asked while the pair traveled through side by side.

Sina's mouth produced a slanted smile and she gave her companion a stern look, "Professor Sycamore will never give up on the lab, he just needs some time for himself." She considered it a great victory that she spoke with hardly wavering confidence.  

Dexio smiled back awkwardly, a brief flash of shame crept up on him from his moment of doubt, "You're right of course. Hopefully he'll be back to his old self on his return."

Sina didn't offer any other response on the subject, she only hoped that she was actually correct.

~*~

Augustine prayed that he didn't appear as dreadful as he felt. The lines around his eyes and mouth couldn't be claimed as good years spent with carefree grins and uninhibited laughter. Perhaps that was their start, but where he stood now in his life they were definitely just the signs of an aging man who had suffered grief. He flipped a chunk of hair that was bound and determined to remain in his eyes with a quivering, shaky hand. Perhaps the coffee he drank was a bad idea, it wasn't serving as a good substitute for all the lost sleep that was finally catching up to him.

He was certain that less people were actually paying attention to him and his haggard appearance than he imagined in his head. Most people hardly appeared to recognize him if he was without his lab coat. He had swapped out for his pale blue windbreaker instead to keep out the slight nip in the morning air. It was relaxing in a way to be just another nameless body in the streets. The world around him moved too fast to take a moment to bother with his existence. It appeared that he was the only one left that couldn't move to catch up with the blurred masses around him. Though for the first time in a long while the world may have been creeping slowly to his level, the fear in the crowds was all too real.

There were whispers in groups while they huddled around a shared newspaper, every story talking about the possibility of Team Flare's return. The silver lining was that many of the escaped criminals were quickly apprehended and detained, though the man whose face was plastered on every news article and television screen was still free. Augustine bit into his lip roughly when he passed a gossiping crowd, all to keep himself from nearly wanting to scream at the heartless whispers.

_"At least their leader is dead..."_

_"Thank goodness too, he was mad!"_

_"What did he even what to accomplish? I always thought he was a troubled man."_

Augustine's eyes stung and his lip nearly split from his forceful bite. No one knew Lysandre like him, that he was sure of. No one else knew the softness those beautiful eyes could produce when he listened to the Professor's excitable rants of his research. No one else saw how soft and gentle his hands were when he held one of the lab's pokémon in his arms. The same gentleness once held him the same. His passions were extreme, but they weren't always so. Lysandre was a good man, a good man who wanted to make a change in a world that wanted none of it. He was so frustrated with the state of the world, but Augustine's words were stolen from his throat, he couldn't stand seeing the fire in his eyes fade.

His left palm was protectively curled around the holocaster in his pocket. Lysandre needed him, he had to hope that the message was a sign that he still lived. The edges of eyes burned again, but he fought it off while he worked up the nerve to finally step inside the huge base of the Prism Tower.

"Bonjour!" He called with the best impression of cheerfulness he could forge.

"Professor Sycamore!" Came the sunny voice of young Bonnie Limone. She took into a full sprint and practically crashed into his arms. He had to free his left hand from his pocket in order to hold her properly.

"Did you bring any pokémon with you?" She asked with boundless enthusiasm, her blue eyes nearly twinkling with carefree youth.

He nodded stiffly and slowly placed her back onto the floor, "I did." His coat was flipped back to reveal four pokeballs clipped in a row at his belt, "I need to speak with your brother though, I'm afraid I cannot visit for long."

Bonnie's cheeks puffed out in slight irritation, "I wanted to play with Garchomp." She muttered before turning her head and belting out with her tiny hands cupped around her mouth like a megaphone, "CLEMONT! THE PROFESSOR IS HERE!"

"Goodness, Bonnie you don't have to yell." The Lumiose City gym leader made his way over to the waiting pair, he reached out and softly shook the Professor's hand, "Your message seemed so urgent, is everything alright?"

Augustine signaled the best he could to hint that he wished to speak on the matter privately. His eyes flashed to Bonnie who was bouncing on her heels with glee. Thankfully, Clemont caught on to what the Professor was trying to say, "Oh Bonnie, could you take Luxray out for some exercise?" He handed her the pokeball that held the large pokémon.

The young blonde simply stared at the other two before finally  turning to wander off, "I'm not stupid you know, you could have just told me you wanted to speak alone..."

The gym leader sighed as his sister bound off and proceeded to lead the Professor to a side office just off the gym's main floor that held some of Clemont's inventions. More importantly it held his computer. It was of the young inventor's own design and managed to nearly take up the entire wall of the rectangular space. It was used to monitor all of tower's functions and was thankfully one of Clemont's machines that didn't go up in smoke, at least not often.

"So what's going on Professor Sycamore, it has been a long time since I've seen you so serious." There was no masking the young man's concern and he wasn't making any effort to. He was taken aback by the short message he had received so early in the morning. By the looks of the older man in front of him, it looked like he had been up most of the night and was just waiting for the appropriate hour to send the text. 

The two each took a seat across from each other, Clemont at his computer and Augustine by a cluttered desk of blueprints. He reached into his coat pocket and produced his holocaster, sliding it across the desk in front of the younger man.

"Is it possible for you to trace where a holoclip was sent from..."

Clemont blinked and fumbled with his large glasses, "You still have one of these?" Pointing to the device, "I mean yeah, I may be able to. It really isn't that simple though."

The gym leader quickly continued at the sight of the Professor's sudden dispirited expression, "Now, now, I'm not saying that it isn't possible. It just may not be extremely accurate."

The large round glasses gleamed in the light and the young man let out a slight chuckle. He swiftly plugged the device into his computer and collected the holoclip in question, "We should never deny the power of science!"

His fingers worked rapidly across his keyboard, all the while speaking of his workings, "First I'll try connect to the other holocaster that sent you the clip in the first place. If this works, you'll have a much more accurate location of the sender-"

"The number was restricted though..." The Professor interjected, not meaning to come across as rude or doubtful of the gym leader's abilities.

Clemont simply chuckled again and continued to work, "Such a thing won't stop me." A window popped up on his screen and looked to be trying to find any trace of the other holocaster's signal. A central point pinged from their location of the digitized map, but after awhile the results proved to not be very fruitful.

"It's not online anymore..." The young man tapped his chin and clicked away at his keyboard in a strangely rhythmic fashion, "That's ok, I have another idea. This won't be as precise, but it will give you an area to work with."

A similar window like the first opened up and another scan began. It was proceeding slowly so Clemont wheeled his chair towards the Professor to explain the process, "I'm trying to figure out which network the device connected to. This will hopefully give you some sort of insight as to where you could begin to look." Clemont paused for a moment to check the status of the scan, "Professor Sycamore, if you don't mind me asking... What are you looking for with thi-"

 "Oh! It's done!" Augustine blurted out, thankfully that was actually true and not just a convenient excuse to avoid explanation.   

Both men focused intensely on the screen. A map of Kalos cut into a grid filled the view with one small northeastern section highlighted, "Looks like it connected somewhere around routes fifteen and sixteen, there isn't much over there-"

Augustine leapt from his chair and disconnected his holocaster from the computer, the open program shutdown from the device being suddenly disconnected, "Merci, merci!" He chattered, "I must be on my way..." He turned to rush out of the office when he was suddenly stopped by Clemont.

"Hold on!" He grabbed the Professor's wrist with barely a touch, "Forgive me, but are you in danger? Does this have anything to do with the prison break?" Clemont took a wobbly breath, his face molded with even more concern than before, "Do you need the police?"

It killed him really how much the young man looked genuinely concerned for his wellbeing, but Augustine just couldn't risk him knowing the truth. At least he couldn't share the truth quite yet, "I promise you I'm not in any danger. I just need to look into something..." Clemont had released the hold on his arm, but continued to stare at him questionably, "I will explain everything when I return, please just be patient with me."

The young gym leader nodded and once again fixed his glasses that had slipped down his nose, "I'll hold you to that Professor." He reached out his hand to shake the Professor's once again, "Please, just be safe."

It was amazing how much guilt such words could cause in him, only made worse on his exit.

"Professor Sycamore! Can I play with your pokémon now?" Bonnie had to jog in order to keep up with his swift movements. Clemont's Luxray let out the low rumble of a growl when he didn't answer.

He stood at the exit, Bonnie at his side staring up at him with anticipation. She hopped in place and swung her arms playfully at her sides. The large pokémon next to her urging him to speak with an intense spark of its large round eyes. A long puff of air was slowing released from his lungs and he ruffled the top of the young girl's hair, "Je suis désolé, Bonnie. I promise you I will let you have full run of the laboratory garden on my return, we'll have a picnic and everything, oui?"

Her young face morphed with disappointment, but she perked up at the promise of a pokémon picnic. Her tiny fingers tightened into Luxray's mane and her Dedenne poked a sleepy eye out of her satchel, "Oui!" She responded back cheerfully.

Augustine wished he could borrow some of her seemingly unlimited joy and energy, if just for awhile.

~*~

Augustine zipped his jacket all the way to the bottom of his chin and pulled the hood tight around his face. Charizard was doing well in the flight despite the wind in the higher altitude. The large leather wings fanned out in the slight turbulence, saving the creature some energy from the added weight of his passenger. The Professor patted his partner's shoulder fondly, "You're doing great Charizard, magnifique!"

He pointed a shivering finger to the route below, "Stay low now, I want to see if I have any issue with my signal here..."

Charizard let out an affirmative call and gently tipped his flight towards the ground, hovering perfectly over the overgrown grass that sprouted in sections of route fifteen's path. The Professor held out his holocaster while he maintained a firm hold on Charizard for support. To his frustration his signal maintained. They passed over the crumbling ruins of what was once a hotel, not even a single bar was lost.

As they passed it suddenly occurred to him, catching the weathered staircase that descended below the cracked floor, would his holocaster's signal be limited below ground? He figured that it was a possibility. Ignoring the fact that the majority of Lysandre's more secret dealings involved being hidden below ground. It was still the best guess he had. Charizard made a wide turn back towards the structure, his wings disrupted the shrubbery and sent loose chips of tile once they landed near the husk of the lost hotel.

Even though the structure was without a roof, it still proved to be too tight of a space for Charizard to move about easily, though the loyal creature certainly tried. It was when Charizard's strong tail crashed into a crumbling section of wall, toppling it over, that the Professor made the decision to have him return.  

Augustine attached the capsule back to his belt and flipped his hood from his head, freeing his now flattened hair. His fingers trailed over each capsule of his chosen team, Charizard, Venusaur, Blastoise, and Garchomp, each far too large to walk beside him. The act was only done to give him a sense of comfort, not to mention he wasn't sure what he would even find when he traveled down below. He used the rough wall section for support as he traveled down the dilapidated staircase. 

It was strange he thought, staring at rotting carpet, tearing wallpaper, and crumbling tile, he was so sure that young trainers typically hung out in the ruin. Though as he walked through the dark space, light peeking through holes above, his holocaster still maintaining a strong signal, he never saw another trainer. His steps reverberated off the decaying walls, making it even more clear that he was alone in the ruin.

Either way he realized, a discovery or not would be disheartening in its own way. He played the saved clip once again, doubting what his sleep-deprived mind made of it before. Perhaps he was just creating an answer for something he just didn't have. It was just an attempt to tell himself that perhaps Lysandre lived and was just waiting for him to come to the rescue.

He pocketed the device again and shook his head while he rubbed his tired eyes. Wasn't that something he used to always tell himself, that he would save Lysandre? Of course it never worked out that way. In the end Augustine was too much of a coward to say what was on his mind.

_"Shoulda, woulda, coulda."_

He looped the mocking line in his head, "What am I doing?" He groaned, "I really have gone mad..."

His foot struck against the floor in his attempt to abandon the quest, but instead of it remaining solid, it cracked under his weight and broke away. He let out a piteous scream as the surrounding tile broke and the Professor found himself falling into the abyss below.

His screaming choked off abruptly when his hood was snagged on a broken support beam. Augustine's legs kicked wildly as he gasped desperately for air. The zipper of his coat cut into the flesh of his throat, breaking skin. His face flushed and his hands worked frantically to pull his zipper free, a pounding pain grew in his skull with each failed breath of air. Heat flashed across his skin and his eyes leaked as he was continually robbed of oxygen. 

He couldn't even think of what would be his fate if he continued to fall, his thoughts were too busy screaming for his freedom. All his mind could supply was the deep hysteria caused by the frenzied horror of death. His hands clawed at his coat and tugged at the collar to allow even a short draw of air into his heaving chest. The zipper refused to let loose and his frantic movements only caused it to cut and scrape more of his reddening neck. Finally with a burst of adrenaline he broke the zipper free and slipped out from the coat, only then gasping for breath to scream again as he continued to fall.   

His vision spun and twisted, presumably from his lack of oxygen, and for a moment it was as though he was falling through the darkened space in slow motion. He sank like a weighted body through water, occasionally having his descent disrupted by striking against broken floor sections. His shoulder smoldered and burned intensely from being torn by passing debris, his once pristine shirt now tattered and stained from injury. The twisting, nauseating descent  continued until his body struck hard on cement-laid flooring.

A sickly thud echoed through the new hallway followed by a wheezing, precious breath that was forced from the Professor's aching lungs. His back tingled against broken shards of ceramic and chunks of rotted wood. Musty, stagnant air passed through his nose and the slight taste of coppery blood sat of the tip of his tongue. The broken shaft above him warped and blurred and soon everything darkened as Augustine's sight faded away.

~*~     

_"How wonderful Augustine, you die chasing a ghost. How touching, it's almost romantic really. So what are you going to do now I wonder? Are you just going to lie on your back and die? What about everything you've worked so hard to get in life? Your lab, your staff, your research? What will come of all the years of hard work if you refuse to get off the floor? What would Lysandre think of this? Do you think he would shed a tear for you, or would he grab you and scream and tell you how foolish you've been? You need to get up... I need to get up... I need to get out of here..."_

Augustine's ears were filled with the consistent buzz of electricity. It was so strong that he could feel it prickle around his body, sending tingly waves across his skin like tiny insects crawling across it. His eyes slowly focused to show the hole that he fell through high above him, his coat still snagged on the beam.

He reached instinctively for the pokeballs still attached to his belt only pausing to consider which one of his partners could assist him in the situation. Blastoise wouldn't be of much help, Venusaur was much too large but his vines might be useful, Charizard's wings needed too much space to sustain flight, and although Garchomp couldn't retain flight, she could break through the opening without damage.

With his decision in mind, he reached for the forth capsule on his belt. He hissed though his teeth at the sharp pain that erupted in his left shoulder, opting to use his other arm to reach for the pokeball instead. He pressed the central button with his thumb to cause the ball to increase in size, only to find that it refused to respond to his command.

There were no words that he could think to say at the moment, he was just left dumbfounded at the fact that the capsule did not enlarge. He held it over his face and continued to press the button in rapid succession. Continuing to do it even though he could plainly see that it still refused to work. He swiftly grabbed for another pokeball, Venusaur, and tapped his thumb against that one, only to find that it also refused to respond.

Charizard was snatched, nothing. Augustine could feel his chest tightening in panic.

His whole body now visibly shook as the realization of how dire his situation had become really weighed down on him. He grabbed is final pokémon, Blastoise, and tried to do the same.

It didn't work.

Augustine reattached his team to his belt and struggled to sit up off the unforgiving floor. He wasn't proud of the sounds that escaped his lips as he forced himself into a sitting position. The cries and gasps echoed down the dim halls around him. Lit, he noticed, by small imbedded bulbs near the center of the cinderblock walls.

Crude piping snaked across the low ceiling and traveled down certain sections of wall only to disappear behind a blind corner. The buzzing remained a constant, vibrating inside the Professor's head and making it ache all the more so.

He tore his wandering eyes away from his bleak surroundings to finally address the condition of his injuries. His shoulder had the worst of it, gashed and still bleeding. The shred of sleeve that remained on his button up was now dyed a bright red, the edges slowly turning rusty from drying. The shirt was thoroughly ruined so he didn't shed a tear when he tore off the remaining scrap and used it to tie a makeshift bandage across the stinging wound. The wrappings were filthy, but he wasn't in a state that allowed him to be picky. The bleeding was stemmed and for now that would have to be enough.

Rising to his feet incited further yelps of agony that he couldn't keep silent. The edge of the hallway made for easy support as he gathered his strength to walk. Each step shot further pain throughout his body. He was sure that there was further damage done from the fall, but moving was his only hope of finding some sort of exit.

He heard of old hotels having underground tunnels for staff use, but never had the opportunity to investigate one himself. If his body wasn't racked with injury, he could have possibly been enthusiastic about the discovery.

Every swallow reminded him of his bruised throat, he ran his fingers carefully over the raw skin only to wince. Oh, he was definitely a mess. What would everyone say when he finally found his way out of the seemingly endless mess of hallways. Augustine wanted to curse his awful luck, he couldn't even try to call anyone via holocaster. His device was left in the pocket of his dangling coat.

His hand thrust to his side once again, his pokémon still couldn't be released to assist. How could he have damaged them on his fall? From what he understood, and when it came to pokémon he understood quite a lot, a pokeball was nearly indestructible. Any sort of glitch in their function was so rare that he doubted he would be able to find any documentation.

All he wanted was to be carried by one of his partners, the pain wasn't proving to taper off in the slightest. At least he was alive, though barely. Instantly, he made a promise to himself he would take all the advice that he had been given about his grieving process. There was no denying any longer that he had become obsessed and it almost cost him his life.

Augustine dragged his feet forward only to stop short of a hissing pipe.  There was a sound. Not just any sound, but a melody. Was there music?

He craned his neck and tried to tune out the hum of electricity and the sputtering, hissing pipes so he could focus in on the out of place tune. It was music he realized, his face relaxing with relief. If there was music there was possibly people. People that could help him find his way to the surface.

With a clear direction and drive, his shuffling steps became easier than before. He rounded another corner and could see a bright glow produced from a room ahead. The music filed out of it clear and full, luring the Professor over to its source.

He placed his palm against the slightly ajar door, ready to push it open and step inside. Suddenly, a fetid scent wafted out from the thin opening. It hung in the air like a thick, invading fog. The Professor instantly covered his nose and mouth from the infesting scent to no avail. It was mixed with the metallic tang of blood, even stronger than his own.

He took a shaky step away from the opening, his mind quickly deciding that he would find another path.

The music came to a stop.

Augustine's body twitched when he heard what sounded like multiple metal objects being scattered across the floor. Heavy footsteps moved just beyond the useless barrier, moving close enough for the shadowed body to be seen through the crack.

"Oh, Professor Sycamore. Do come in."

The Professor's whole body froze at the voice. It was polite, but not genuine in nature. It held an air of mockery in its tone and Augustine feared he knew who the voice belonged to.

The door slowly opened causing the putrid smell to strengthen. Augustine continued to hold his hands like a mask over his nose and mouth, trying his best not to openly gag. A sharp laugh filled the air, escaping the large frame of Kalos' most wanted criminal, Xerosic Fleischer.

"I see you dropped in for a visit, how kind." The scientist's belly rumbled from his own joke, "Well it's certainly good to see that you are more clever than previously thought."

He reached out to the Professor, who flinched at the contact, "Don't you want to know who sent you that message?"

It was clear that the man was trying to bait him, but Augustine couldn't help but be drawn in by it. He was ready to write off the message as a glitch, a glitch he morphed in his mind to fill his sick delusion. Now it seemed that he was right to be so curious of the holoclip, he just had to get answers from Team Flare's top scientist.

"Don't dally, come in." Xerosic turned in his boots and marched back into the bright room. He didn't even bother looking back to see if the Professor would follow. He set his bait, all he had to do was wait for the other man to bite.

Bite he did as he limped into the room after the scientist, only to freeze at the sight before him. Augustine's eyes quivered in his sockets, he could feel bile rising in the back of his throat and his stomach twisting in repulsion. What he was presented with was something not even his worst nightmares could form. His terrors could never manifest themselves in the hideous ways that the crude lab sprawled out for him.

The source of the smell, he was sure the scent and the vision would never be scrubbed from him. The far wall was a row of cold metal gurneys, each one layered with a body. Oozing, decaying openings covered the victims, their fluids forming sticky puddles on the floor.

Xerosic spoke with little regard of the scene, "Don't mind those, they were failures. Unable to take to the implants I tried to give them." He sat in a rolling chair and pushed himself over to one of the corpses, lifting the stiff arm without care and showing his handy work. The young woman's arm was incased in some sort of brace, possibly meant to reinforce her slender limbs.

The scientist pushed her head to the side with a crack, showing deep holes bore into her temples, "This is the procedure I lose most of them with, they just don't understand that they need to stay still. It's their fault really..."  

_"Run, run, run, run, run! Idiot, RUN!"_

Xerosic wheeled himself closer to the ghostly face of the Professor, "You don't care about my work though, do you? You are racking your brain about that message."

Augustine managed a feeble nod, not daring to make eye contact with the, obviously mad, scientist. He dared another look at the row of putrid bodies, his guts rebelling again and causing him to finally cough and choke, "Did you send it?" The Professor managed through dry heaves. Each one causing further sharp spikes to web through his core and limbs, "Did you..." he panted, hating each disgusting puff of air that burned his nose and throat. Each moment he spent in the blaringly bright space made him want to vomit, the heavy scent of death was too much.

"What would you think if I did, why would I do something like that?" A wide grin cracked across the madman's face, nearly splitting it in two. His sickly white skin was but centimeters from the Professor's. A fact that caused him to shove back against the larger man in fear and panic. It only served to cause Augustine to cry out in misery from straining his shoulder.

There was sudden movement that disturbed a curtained off space, a whirl of buzzing parts and rickety steps could be heard. Xerosic's face twisted dangerously before gripping the collar of the Professor's shirt, forcing him close again, "Look what you did!" He spat.

Augustine gasped and moaned from his forced movements as the scientist dragged him over to the closed curtain, "I was planning to play with you for a bit longer, but it looks like someone else has other ideas." He jabbed a finger towards the curtain in irritation.

His knuckles whitened from maintaining his tight hold on the Professor's shirt, "Oh good you're awake!" He shouted, "I suppose it would be rude not to greet your long time _friend_!"

With his free hand he tore back the medical curtain, revealing what was hidden behind. Even with his tight grip, there was nothing he could do to prevent the man he held against his will from shouting and crashing to the floor with force. Xerosic ignored it, even when the Professor wailed and screamed at the sight of his greatest creation.

"Really now, is that how you typically greet Lysandre?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fun" bit of trivia I felt like sharing. I gave Xerosic the last name, Fleischer not only because of my headcanon that he is German, but also because it literally translates to "butcher". 
> 
> The more you know.
> 
> Also, because it was asked (I already answered but I thought I would put a note here) The song I imagined the Professor heard through the buzzing sounds and hissing pipes was: Beethoven - Moonlight Sonata. 
> 
> Xerosic is a madman, but he at least has class. (debatable in this fic.)


	3. Malfunction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tags say it all folks. This chapter gets intense.

 There was nothing.

Nothing that could prepare Augustine for what he saw. His mind continued to scream at increased frequency, not allowing another thought to form. Everything burned away and frayed at the edge of his already tattered mind, he was deaf to his own continued shouts of distress.

His skin flashed in building waves, like crashing water in a relentless storm, electrical crackles prickling his skin and cool sweat instantly drowned in fever-like heat. He couldn't look away from the sight, no matter how much reason and sanity begged him to. An instant scar tore through the lobes of his brain, imprinting the new reality that was his lost Lysandre. 

The man, whatever was left of that once incredible presence, stood crookedly near a cold slab that must have been his new place of rest. How could someone like him have any peace enough to sleep? Augustine highly doubted Lysandre was able to slumber at his current state.

His hair was flat and filthy, caked with dried blood that came off in flakes with each sporadic movement that shocked his system. His jaw was set firmly and the muscles bulging as though he was forced to keep his mouth securely clamped. A visor hid his eyes from view, it wrapped around his face and ears and connected into his skull by large ports. The flesh around the temporal implants were reddened and swollen, leaking from the signs of infection and festering.

His clothing was torn and ratted, revealing old bruising that had yet to fade from previous injury. Another creaking step and Augustine was horrified at the state of his limbs. Long rods of steel cut directly into his arms and legs, offering them the support they needed to give him the ability to move. Every wound oozed from lack of care, the tissue damaged and raw with each twitch.

His breathing was sharp and fast, occasionally letting out a long release like a kettle over a flame. It was like a silent scream voicing the unbelievable torture he was taking. The buzzing tendrils of his back piece shot around like angry insects, one knocking over a scalpel with a loud clatter, causing Augustine's heart to leap.

Lysandre suddenly convulsed, his back moving stiffly against the back ports that drilled into his spine. There was a slight hiss that pushed through his tight lips, but that was the only sound he voiced.

Augustine's throat became raw and soon he also only silently screamed, his tears formed bending rivers down his face, his eyes remaining unblinking at Lysandre's condition, "Why." He croaked, refusing to meet the face of the scientist.

Xerosic looked absolutely proud of himself. He didn't bother with lifting the Professor from the floor, he just approached his old boss and placed a fearless hand on his twitching arm, "I thought you would be happy to see him? I did save his life after all..."

Lysandre didn't react to the touch. He just remained still, as still as his body could manage, and forced loud puffs of air through his nostrils. Augustine couldn't be sure if he was looking at him, but with the slight incline of his neck he thought he must have been. He tried to see him through the visor, just to see if his eyes showed any signs that he was still there. The glare from the overhead lights made it impossible.

The familiar sharp laugh filled the room as Xerosic padded Lysandre's arm roughly, causing painful looking spasms through his broken body, "So soon after the complete failure at Geosenge, I returned and dug him out of the rubble like the benevolent soul I am."

The scientist frowned and suddenly struck Lysandre in his slouching back and pointed at the scalpel that had been knocked onto the floor. Without so much as hesitation the tall redhead moved into action, his arms reaching stiffly to collect the instrument. His fingers failed to grasp around the handle, inciting a hateful growl from Xerosic, "Just use your damn tendrils!" He barked.

It was a horrible sight. Lysandre's arms were far beyond repair, most likely broken in multiple places from his fate in Geosenge. His legs also swollen with injury and moving stiffly in the cutting braces. One of the metallic ends swooped down and collected the dropped surgical tool, placing it in the scientist's waiting palm.

"I managed to transport his body here." Xerosic waved his arms around the bloody lab with pride, the sharp scalpel slicing through air, "He was so scared to die you see, he practically begged me for help..."

Xerosic lunged for the Professor, catching him in his continued shock. His heavy boot pressed without restraint into his chest as he pushed the man into the floor. He passed the scalpel between his hands, ignoring Augustine's sputters and protests. Finding a sick joy out of it in a way, especially once the Professor tried to call out to Lysandre. 

"Please! Lysandre, I'm here!" He groaned when Xerosic's boot dug in deeper, causing him to cough, "I'm getting you out of here! I'll find someone who can help you." He yelped in pain when his side erupted in agony at the swift kick he received. The only sounds he could voice were his own groans as he held his sore core protectively, his already cracked ribs sending sharp jolts through his body.

Lysandre twitched savagely, his jaw making an audible grinding noise, but he remained planted in place.

"I gave you credit for getting here based on the desperate clip sent by my _glorious leader.._." Xerosic's gaze shot out at his creation, " Schwachkopf! Do you really think that he will actually respond to you!?" He let out a rumbling chortle, "No, he only responds to my command now. That holoclip was a mistake, a simple miscalculation that I have no plan in repeating."

Augustine brought his palm to rest at his belt, another loud laugh bounced off the walls, "I'm many things Professor, an idiot is not one. It's child's play to create a jamming signal to render pokeballs useless, what do you take me for?"

"A maniac." Augustine shot back, his shaky arms working to push himself off the disgusting floor.

"Fair enough." Xerosic said with a shrug.

There was a wickedness that crept over his features. His sharp stare, though hidden behind dark tinted lenses, passed between his old boss and the sight of the Professor trying to pull himself off the floor. He jabbed out his arm, the scalpel's point just grazing the skin above the Professor's collarbone, "Now you aren't so simpleminded to think that you'll leave?" His toothy grin widened at how Augustine's breath became shallow to avoid the stinging tip of his blade, "I want you to run..."

"What?" The Professor sputtered, unsure of what type of madness the scientist was trying to weave.

"You heard me. Run." The blade pulled back, leaving a small pearl of blood. He motioned his arms over to Lysandre, who continued to stay until commanded, "I'm going to use you to test Lysandre's upgrades. You are going to run, I'll even give you a head start to hobble ahead. Then I'm going to send Lysandre to fetch you and return you to me."

The redhead let out the barest of moans at his master's words, "Then I'm going to strap you down onto one of my gurneys and operate on you like I did to the rest. Hopefully, you won't move so much. You might actually live."

Xerosic stood next to Lysandre and beamed like a trainer receiving a first prize ribbon in a contest. He held his fingers out in front of him, ready to snap them to signal his creation into action, "I'll only say this one last time Professor... RUN!"

~*~

Like the obnoxious buzz that filled his head, the shooting pain that pierced through Augustine's legs and back were slowly becoming his new norm. Even when the pain spread out through his core and bloomed in his chest from heavy breaths trapped beneath bruised, abused ribs, he continued to push himself blindly through the dim halls.

Fear gripped him without pity, fear threw each of his feet forward to quicken his pace. He tried to keep his mind steady, focusing on each bulb in the block wall like a checkpoint. He dashed around another corner and threw his weight against the harsh surface. His legs quaked and his body quivered as though he was caught out in a pelting ice storm.

He wanted to shout, cry, scream in anguish and frustration, but crammed a shivering palm over his chapped lips. His breath puffed against it with damp warmth and slowly he tried to mute himself. Augustine didn't dare sit on the floor, even though it was so tempting. Just a quick rest to calm his aching body, steady his pounding heart. If he sat, he wasn't sure if he would rise back to his feet. Not without being caught and dragged back to join the victims on a gurney of his own.

_Thump, thump, thump, thump._

There was no calming the drum-like beat that played out like a signal from his chest. How much of a head start was he allotted? In truth, he didn't try to watch behind his back as his limps turned into clumsy sprints. There was shame that swirled with the fear like a perfect mate. They waltzed and twirled and taunted the Professor for his weakness.

He found Lysandre, but he was trapped in a body gored with metal and filled with blistering wounds. It was a fate that looked to be worse than his presumed death. Death held mercy in her claw, a way for pain to end and new life to flourish. Lysandre's fate was nothing but suffering, a punishment that Augustine couldn't bear to see forced on him. 

His chest welled up again and his gagged mouth could hardly silence the crackling cry that leaked through his scuffed fingers. He thought he could save him, but there was no one who could save the Professor from the hell he fell into.

Scraping echoes stilled his movements, he froze like a creature caught in a pair headlights. His breathing reduced to hardly a flutter, anymore and he was sure his discovery would be imminent. He could just make out the rapid clicking of metallic wings. Lysandre's tendrils buzzed around his lumbering form, desperately seeking signs of the chosen prey.

Augustine forced his feet to move, his body slid against the wall and shuffled along it to give himself more distance. He paused when he heard the stuttering echoes come to an end. Everything was drowned out by the continued, obnoxious hum that vibrated throughout the halls.

He chanced a glance at the corner behind him, his gaze barely shifted in the direction. Instantly, Augustine flattened himself when an insect-like end hovered around the edge. It flitted closer before landing on the cinder block wall that Augustine had his body pressed against. He knew that Lysandre was just beyond his sight, he knew that he had to flee, but fear betrayed him.

His feet stayed in place like they were cemented into the floor.

There was the sound of a lens focusing, the tendril's end looked to be scoping out the Professor's failure of a hiding spot. He dared not breathe, even though his body was demanding it. He couldn't when the clicking end was so unbearably close to his face.

To his relief it appeared to draw back, perhaps its sight limited in the dim quality of the hall's light. As carefully as he could manage, he drew in a small amount of air and pushed himself further down the hall to distance himself. He only managed a few scooting steps.

Besides the cry of pain that was forced from his lungs, Augustine remembered hearing the loud buzz of each tendril springing forth. His movement sparked the claw-like extensions to grab out at him, one biting into his bicep and refusing to release.

"No! Please! Let go of me!" He coughed and wheezed.

Every pull only made the unforgiving metal grip tighter. Lysandre forcibly hobbled into view, his two remaining tendrils rearing like venomous Arboks. The tall redhead's body hunched forward in the low hall, his legs shaking uncontrollably in the bent position. Augustine could see his teeth biting viciously into his bottom lip. There was a sputter of spit and blood that was forced from his split lips with a shutter of breath. His mouth moved in a way to mimic speech, but he could only groan and gasp before his mouth clicked shut. His jaw slid back and forth, his teeth grinding hard enough to crack.

Augustine noticed that the nipping metal that tore into his arm relaxed ever so slightly. So he threw his body back, his arm tearing free from the clamp. The hall echoed with another cry of pain, but the Professor didn't bother to address his new bleeding wound. Pushing through every screaming nerve, he continued to run.

This time though, Lysandre was in hot pursuit. His tall stature not easily hindered in the tight quarters from his forced movements. He would crash into walls as he rounded a corner, but would continue as though the act caused him no pain. If he lifted his head it would strike against piping that covered the ceiling, again he acted as though it went unnoticed. The only drive that pushed his broken limbs into his tortuous sprint was the continued scream in his ears, _"Get him, get him, get him, get him NOW!"_

There had to be an exit, somewhere that would lead Augustine to the surface. The maze of halls continued to lead him in a disorienting mess. Every wall looked the same as the last, every corner opened up into more identical halls. He wanted to curse his panic, if only he stayed calm when he first fled. Perhaps he could have back tracked to where he fell in before, instead of finding himself lost in the forgotten tunnels.

Augustine came to another corner, only to dash around it without care. He had no idea how much distance he gained between himself and the puppet that Lysandre had become, but he wasn't going to stop and check. Not after the mistake such an act caused for him previously.

The hall he now found himself in was much darker than others. Instead of a perfect row of yellowed bulbs that gave off a weak glow, most appeared to be burnt out or dimming. He cursed when his body collided into the solid end, a dead end. Despite it being a pointless action, the Professor beat at the wall until a crumbling chunk of cinder block fell free and landed at his feet. He continued until his fists felt bruised and he heard the distinct sound of buzzing metal and heavy steps.

He turned and was met with the sight of Lysandre slowly approaching. None of his movements looked to be sure, his foot would hover before finally twitching forward to land. His whole body was tense and Augustine was so sure that Lysandre, the real Lysandre, must have been trying to fight.

He slumped against the wall that had him trapped, all he could do was wait for Lysandre to approach. There was no more escape.

"Lysandre..." Augustine began, his voice causing a noticeable change in the man before him, "I know you can hear me." He swallowed, this mouth tasting like copper, "Fight him mon amour, oh please fight him..."

He was so close now, his torn body just hovering above the Professor. Augustine could see just how bad his wounds were, even in the dark. Infection filled his nostrils and he could see a shimmer of sweat on Lysandre's brow, his face was flushed red from fever.

Lysandre didn't move, aside from his occasional spasms, he just knelt down in front of his prey, his back tendrils hissing madly.

Augustine wanted to reach out to him, touch him to know that he was real, just to know that they were in the nightmare together, "Oh, Lysandre...." His voice cracked.

He couldn't bring himself to touch any part of the other man, not when he was so sure that even the briefest press of his fingertips would cause him further pain. Augustine stared straight at the man he loved, even when one of the hissing ends struck near his head and filled his ears with their buzzing noise. The remaining tendrils lashed forward, seemingly beyond their host's control, and gripped into his arms and chest. Augustine winced at the pinching metal ends, tears filling his eyes without his say. Yet, he continued to stare at Lysandre.

"I'm so sorry..." He managed to say between his clenched teeth, his hand gripped around the broken chunk of cinder block.

Putting every amount of strength he could summon, he thrust the hard chunk towards one of Lysandre's temporal ports. It hit its mark with a sickly crack, causing the tendrils to suddenly release their hold, while their host shot back with a horrifying howl of pain. The port hissed and sparked wildly, the visor coming open to reveal Lysandre's bloodshot eyes. He crumpled on the ground, the port continuing to spark while Lysandre twitched and groaned.

It was his chance, the Professor just had to step over his body and make a run for it. He scrambled on the floor, only managing a hasty crawl. He approached Lysandre, his stomach dropping with how much he convulsed.

_"Run, this is your chance. Escape!"_

Augustine stopped short and stayed on the floor by Lysandre's body, he hesitantly reached out a hand and ran it through his filthy hair, "I'm so sorry." He quietly wept.

The softly groaning redhead lifted his head to meet Augustine's eyes. They shimmered and revealed the truth, Lysandre was sorry too. His mouth worked again, trying desperately to string sounds together into understandable language.

Augustine could no longer stop himself, he cupped Lysandre's face with both of his hands, his thumbs rubbing careful circles in his burning cheeks. His pain was nearly forgotten as he focused his care on the man sprawled out in front of him. His mind filled with nothing but trying to bring him comfort, drowning out the cries to flee.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you!" He yelled, "I was so afraid! I'm so sorry!" The rest of the Professor's speech continued to ramble apologies until they were silenced by the larger man's recovering movements. His eyes shot out full of panic at the Professor, his voice managing to push out a single word, "R....r...ru..n..."

His port hissed one last time before his visor hid his eyes from view. With surprising speed he collected himself from the floor, only to quickly descend on the Professor. Augustine whimpered at Lysandre's vice-like hold, but there was nothing else that he could do.

He had been caught.

~*~

Xerosic was ready for him. While the ex-leader of Team Flare and the Pokémon Professor played their game of hide and seek, the scientist busied himself by getting his station ready for instant operation. The center of the room held a flat metal gurney, the wheels locked in place. Nearby was a cart full of various medical instruments, scalpels, forceps, syringes, and a mess of other equipment littered the surface.

Lysandre approached with his quarry and Xerosic's face lit up, "How nice of you to return Professor, I hope you are eager to begin." He lifted some thick leather restraints that he had attached to the table, "I have everything ready for you."

Augustine's heart quickened as though it was planning a grand escape, only made worse when the restraints were tightened on his wrists and ankles. Xerosic didn't pay his unwilling patient too much mind while he organized his tools. With a smirk he approached the table with a large hand crank drill. He placed the end of it against the Professor's temple, who instantly began to shout and fidget.

"I'm just checking to see if this is the drill I want to use, calm down." He scolded.

The scientist approached again with a scalpel in his ungloved hand, "That won't be the first procedure we do anyway." He frowned when Lysandre stood over the table, right where he planned to work, "Will you move!" He shouted while he pushed the giant from his work space, "If he lives you two will get plenty of time to spend together, just stay out of the way unless I need you!"

Xerosic rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the Professor, "Now where were we?" He made a point to look like he was pondering while he leaned his body on the surgical space, "Oh that's right!"

Augustine yelped when his shirt was sliced open, exposing his red, bruised stomach to the air. His limbs pulled against his restraints to no avail, "You know, you might have a better rate of success if you were to put me under..." Augustine said with a shaky, mock calm voice.

Xerosic tapped the flat edge of his blade against the Professor's stomach, causing him to suck it in to try to prevent it from being touched, "You see Professor I have some news I should probably share with you before I begin this procedure. First thing, I don't have any medicine to use on you for general anesthesia." The blade continued to bounce off of Augustine's tightening core, "Second, I'm not how you say... a medical doctor. Dropped out of med school in my late twenties." Xerosic suppressed a laugh, "Thirdly, and in my honest opinion most important to note, I don't actually care all too much if you survive. Sorry, no hard feelings. You're just a loose end at this point."    

Augustine's breathing raced against his heartbeat, causing his head to swim. Maybe if he fainted it would all go easier, actually he knew it would. Then he suddenly got an idea, a very stupid, desperate, only-good-for-delaying-the-inevitable idea. After composing himself to the best of his ability he cleared his dry throat, "Y...you know, it is pretty amazing how you managed to stage such an escape from prison..."

Xerosic gave a confirming grunt and pulled a felt marker from his pocket to mark incision points. Even though it was just ink, the marks left a creeping sting behind. He paused and gave the Professor a bemused look, "I know what you are doing, Professor. I'm more intelligent than you, as proved by this pathetic attempt to strike me up in conversation." He went back to marking Augustine's body with the pen, sliding a thick line across the raw skin of his throat.

Swallowing thickly, the Professor tried again, "You seem like the type that would want to boast about such a feat."

Xerosic snorted, "This is really the tactic you're going for. Ok, fine. Perhaps I would enjoy a healthy amount of boasting about my genius, though we aren't friends..."

Augustine shot out the first thought that crossed his mind, "I bet in very different circumstances we could, in fact, be friends." He shifted his head as much as he could manage in his position to where he knew a record player was located, "I have a similar model in my office back in my lab, what other types of music do you listen to?"

The scientist wasn't impressed, "What is this, a date? You are wasting your time, I'm still going to operate on you."

Augustine forced a strained smile, "Oui, I'm well aware of that..." His chest heaved for a moment as he searched wildly for Lysandre, finally calmed in a way that he was still near, "Would it kill you to humor an imbecile like me? I'm quite at your mercy, all I ask is for a bit of conversation before I'm reduced to nothing but undignified screams. I will scream very loudly I hope you know."

A small wave of relief settled over his body when he saw the scientist deposit the pen and the scalpel back into the nearby tray.

"I'll humor you only because you amuse me, but only until I grow bored." Xerosic pushed his goggles free from his eyes and rubbed them with his palms before blinking to adjust to the bright overhead lamp, "What do you want to know?"

Augustine's sight trailed back over to Lysandre. His shoulders were shaking far more than was his usual jerky motion. He would wince and shake his head from a shock produced from his raw port.

"Why did you do that to Lysandre?"

The scientist's face darkened, "You could have wasted time with a multitude of mindless questions. We could have chatted about my grand escape, of how that Emma girl was the perfect tool to keep in my arsenal. I could have gone in great detail about how my Malamar used his mind control to force her back into the role of Essentia. Or how her and my Malamar turned David's... or rather _Looker's_ mind to empty space!" Xerosic slammed his palms down on the gurney, causing it to shake, "No, you have already bored me with your poorly timed question about my _great leader_!"

He bristled when Lysandre approached, "Did I call for you?" He hissed, turning back to the trapped Professor, "Why did I turn Lysandre into the shuffling mass of flesh you see now?" His voice grew in volume which each word, "I did this because after years of planning he proved to be weak. When it came time to execute the plan he had a change of heart, all because of your pupils!"

Augustine was at a loss, "He did?"

Xerosic spat and turned to his tray of tools, recollecting his scalpel, "Yes, he turned noble. Gave that damn girl the option to shut the whole thing down. At least I was there to power up the weapon regardless..." He flipped the blade in his fingers and pressed the tip of it at the Professor's sternum, causing Augustine to shout out from panic, "What better than to have him under my control, at least until his body rejects his modifications. Then it won't matter, he'll just die from his injuries." The scientist's tone was low and heartless, he seemed hell-bent on making those that ruined his plan suffer.

"WAIT- AH! NO, STOP!" Augustine shouted as loudly as he could. The blade cut deep into his flesh, leaving searing pain behind. He thrashed in his restraints, trying desperately to force them loose. His screams bounced throughout the grisly lab space.

"LYSANDRE!" He cried out, fear was taking hold yet again, "HELP ME!"

The tall redhead's face twitched towards the Professor's desperate pleas. His body moved closer to the operation space, his tendrils hovering over his shoulders. He staggered and bumped into the scientist, causing the scalpel to tumble from his grasp.

Xerosic's face flashed again with rage, "I said I didn't call for you!" He braced himself on the table before kicking both his feet out and striking Lysandre in the stomach. The lumbering man tripped back from the sudden kick, his legs giving out and causing him to strike down onto the floor.

His head struck the surface with force, his already abused temporal port showering out sparks that bounced across the floor. Lysandre's body contorted against his braces, his teeth showing as he forced air though them.

Then to everyone's surprise, he stood back off the floor. His neck popped from his sudden movement towards the scientist. His entire body moved with each heavy breath, his shoulders bulged and flexed like an animal about to attack.

Xerosic tried to yell again, but was cut off by Lysandre rushing him. His metal-bound arms swung out with the full momentum of his weight and beat on the scientist without mercy. The angry, buzzing tendrils struck out and joined in the attack, cutting deep wounds where ever they landed.

Augustine couldn't see what exactly was occurring, but he could hear every bloodcurdling scream that escaped the ex-top scientist of Team Flare. Suddenly, the bloodied scientist rushed the table. With haste, he grabbed his dropped scalpel and held it against the Professor's throat, "STAY AWAY!" He croaked, "I SWEAR I'LL KILL HIM!"

Lysandre was in no state to negotiate. He stormed the table, Xerosic could barely knick the Professor's skin before he was thrown towards a far console. His weight and the force leaving the machine useless. The entire gurney took a violent tumble as Lysandre continued his pursuit of his ex-comrade, refusing to give the man a moment of reprieve from his vengeful wrath.  

Augustine's body made a painful lurch as the table loudly clattered to its side, his skull pounded from his strike against the hard cement. His head was swimming as though he was engulfed in a fishbowl. All the surrounding sounds blurring together and slowly faded like they were further away. The restraints dug even more into his thin wrists, his hands now taking on a purple shade as he lost the remaining feeling in his fingertips.

He could just make out in his darkening vision the shouting scientist. He was thrashing and kicking against Lysandre's flurry of attacks, his mouth pooling with blood from severe internal damage. There was a blink that lasted for longer than intended and soon all the Professor could make out was the still mess that was once the scientist Xerosic. He was no longer shouting through a bleeding mouth, he just lay in a pile, mutilated like the rest of his victims.

Augustine blinked again and he was met with the blurry view of Lysandre standing over his trapped body. He tried to force himself to say something, but his head swirled again and soon his eyes rolled back and firmly closed. His limp form met the floor when his restraints were released.

~*~

There was shouting, but Augustine couldn't open his heavy eyes to see where it was coming from. All he could focus on was the nearly overwhelming pain that his body held and his weakness. Even though it hurt, he just couldn't move himself from the cold floor.

The voices grew closer.

"Officer Jenny, in here!" He heard a voice call out. It was followed by multiple rushing steps, various police filed into the horror that was Xerosic Fleischer's secret lab. There was the sound of someone gagging, their stomach proving to be too weak for the morbid sight.

Augustine heard a pair of heels trudge across the floor to his location, they made a sudden stop before a voice cried out, "I found him! I found Professor Sycamore!"

His eye's fluttered to try to look at the face of his soon to be savior, but he just couldn't manage.

"He's alive!" He felt his body supported by the random officer, "Someone call for transport! We're moving him to the Lumiose Saint-Antoine University Hospital immediately!"

The rest of the voices became a mess of noise in his ears and soon he slipped back out of consciousness.

-

-

-

-

-

Beeping monitors awoke him next. His eyes shot open and upon seeing the surrounding machines, Professor Sycamore let out a scream. A nurse that was just standing outside the hall came rushing into the room. She placed her hands on the Professor's bandaged shoulders and tried to calm him down while he thrashed.

"Professor! Professor Sycamore please, you're safe now!" She pulled the cord to the Professor's call light to alert for assistance. The added beeping only increased his panic and despite the woman's efforts to hold him gently, it only continued to cause him to yell out louder.

"You'll pull open your stitches, please calm down!"

Stampeding footsteps could be heard from the hall and soon two people came running into the room to assist.

The nurse paused once she saw that they were not hospital staff, "Wait, no one is supposed to see him yet-"

"Move!" Sina shouted, perhaps pushing the woman far harder than necessary, "Dexio, pull the curtain! I don't want everyone looking in here."

The blonde assistant pulled the curtain closed around the bed after plugging the call light back into the wall to silence its beeping. He stood ready by the bed while Sina, who had climbed onto the mattress with her boss to settle his flailing, worked to calm his panic attack.

With only a look from his fellow assistant, Dexio moved to unplug all the monitors that were beeping in the room and finished by clicking the door shut. He ignored the angry protests from the nurse station, they would deal with any repercussions later for their actions. First, came the calming of their boss.

Sina didn't smother the Professor, she just gently rubbed his forehead while he worked to calm his breathing on his own, "You're safe now sir, we're here."

It took awhile, but soon Augustine was aware that he was indeed safe and that Sina and Dexio were there to keep it that way. His face was twisted in confusion. He had so many questions about how he was found, how did the police find him? Augustine just let his head fall back on his pillow, "Thank you." Came his quivering voice, he winced when he realized that he may have indeed pulled a stitch. He could see the small bloom of red staining his light hospital gown.

Dexio collected a rag from the bedside dresser and pressed it gently against the torn stitch site. Both assistants stared at the horrible state that their boss was in, their stares only breaking when loud knocking filled the room.

Sina frowned when the loud noise caused Augustine to twitch, which made him groan from his reopened injury.

She marched to the door and was immediately heard arguing with, what could only be assumed, was hospital staff.

Dexio remained and made soft soothing sounds for the Professor while he continued to hold the soft cloth against his chest.

"How did the police find me?" Augustine murmured.

His assistant's face remained calm and comforting, he took a moment to collect his thoughts through Sina's continued angry shouts, "You called on your holocaster sir, the police department was able to trace the call to your location."

Augustine face held firmly with confusion, "That's not possible, I was without my device." He glanced over to where Dexio pointed, his holocaster sat on the bedside table.

His mouth opened again, but he couldn't say the words that flooded his mind. He knew he didn't call, there was no way that he could have retrieved his device on his own. The only possibility was that...

"Damn it all! He needs to rest! You can question him later!" Sina shrieked, she was unable to stop the pair of officers from pulling open the curtain to see the Professor.

Officer Jenny motioned for her partner to pull out a clip board while she approached Augustine's bedside, "Professor, it's so good to see you awake. I'm sorry to bother you, but I need to ask you some questions about what happened."

Dexio rubbed the Professor's hand at the sight of his face paling, his breathing hitched and his heart rate quickened.  

"Please, Professor this is really important. We are led to believe that Xerosic Fleischer did not act alone, can you tell us who else was down in that hotel with-"

"OUT!" Commanded a lanky man with platinum, slicked back locks, he pushed his wire-framed glasses firmly against his sharp eyes and glared sternly at the crowd that huddled around Augustine's bed, "I will not have my patient questioned right now!"

The Doctor approached, his mouth twitched at the edge at the sight of the popped stitch and instantly rushed to wash his hands and cover them with gloves, "I will not ask again, get out! You can ask him whatever you want when I clear him."

Officer Jenny looked as though she was about to protest, but the Doctor cut her off, "You will not question him today, tomorrow, or even in the next week. Not until he is discharged!" He shot a bony finger out into the hall, "Leave!"

The pair of officers did as instructed and the Doctor turned his attention to the remaining assistants, "Please just wait out in the waiting room, I'll let you know when he is ready for visitors." His tone was noticeably sweeter as he addressed Sina and Dexio than compared to the officers.

Once alone the Doctor carefully addressed the status of Augustine's chest wound, "My name is Doctor Duval, I will be the physician in charge of your care for the majority of your stay." He cleaned up the blood so he could see how bad the pulled stitch actually was, "It was only a surface stitch, I can bandage this for now so you can rest." He took note of the silent monitors and made a quick revision of his care plan, "I'll monitor your vitals manually, would you like anything for pain?"

Augustine nodded lightly, he had to admit that he was relieved by the new calm in the room. Duval jotted down a quick note, "I'll return shortly."

He left the Professor to his own mess of thoughts. Of course Xerosic wasn't alone, but what could he tell the officers when they came calling again. What would they do if he told them about Lysandre. Would they understand that he needed help, or would they rush out and demand his capture? Of course people would be out for blood, why wouldn't they be? So many people were relieved when it was thought he died from the collapse. How many would be willing to try to save a man who tried to cleanse the world.

The Professor held his eyes firmly shut as he fought back the wave of emotions that tried to grip him. Surely, he was one of the only people that didn't wish for his demise.   

~*~

_"Bzzzt, bzzzt, bzzzt."_

Augustine's eyes shot open in the disorienting dark of his hospital room. He scanned around, his chest tight with anxiety from the source of the buzzing sound, "Lysandre!" He cried out in anguish before his mind worked to piece together the more realistic answer.

With his heart still thudding, he glanced over at his nightstand. The screen of his holocaster was still lit up from a notification. The pain medication that he took earlier was certainly beginning to wear off as he reached to clutch the device in his fingers. His body shivered even though his bed was layered with plenty of blankets. The blue of the screen cast the whole room in its glow.

"Holoclip received..." He whispered, "Number, restricted..."

The device was pulled close to his chest, snuffing out the light. After taking a few calming breaths he held the holocaster out on his lap and pressed play.

The clip was hazy and distorted, but devoid of sound. It cut and flickered until a form materialized.

"Lysandre..." He choked.

Augustine could just make out his exposed eyes staring deep into his, a shaky hand was brought forth. The Professor held his out as well, his fingers flickering the image as their hands touched. Then the clip came to an end and the room dimmed.

_"Would you like to save this clip?"_

He stared at the screen for a long time, not sure what he was going to do. He wanted to save the message and keep that view of Lysandre forever, but what if it was discovered? He brought up the options and scrolled down to "no". His throat tightened as he confirmed the selection.

_"Are you sure?"_

Augustine took a few deep breaths, his eyes glimmering from building tears. He wanted to save Lysandre, he wanted to keep him safe. He highlighted his option.

"Yes." He mouthed and made his selection.

 _"Holoclip deleted."_    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end?
> 
> Perhaps this fic will see a sequel but for now this is the conclusion of Technophobia. 
> 
> A quick note: I had Xerosic call Looker, David because I believe that he was able to find out his real name. Why David? Why because looker looked similar to the tenth Doctor in Doctor Who who was played by David Tennant. (I'm not that clever lol)


End file.
